Hidden Beauty
by JayBee-Bug
Summary: A day in the life of a starship captain's not always glamorous. But beauty can still be found if you know where to look. K&S fluff, v. light preslash.


**Title**: Hidden Beauty

**Author**: JayBee-Bug

**Rating**: G

**Summary**: A day in the life of a starship captain's not always glamorous. But beauty can still be found if you know where to look. (K/S fluff, v. light preslash.)

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The man stood, a lone figure on a bluff, overlooking the primarily harsh and infertile landscape. He peered with squinted eyes across the barren scrubland, bright sunlight reflecting off the slightly silver alien soil. It made the sand gleam like a thousand little shards of diamonds that had been scattered on the ground, almost as if some divine maker had been sowing the land with precious minerals. In some fevered and misguided hope that he could somehow cultivate riches from the exhausted-looking world.

All in all, it appeared a rather lonely place for a survey team to study. Yet that was what they were here for. Ship's sensors had indicated a compelling enough reason to come ashore and warrant a more detailed analysis. From afar, the planet had looked especially ordinary and exceedingly predictable. They had encountered dozens of planets similar to its form and structure in the recent weeks. Smallish, iron-nickel core, nitrogen-oxygen atmosphere, Earth-like, but without any large bodies of water, and void of most animal life. Harsh arid and semiarid deserts appeared to be their only geography on a global scale. Plant life was patchy, here and there, never completely absent but never to the point of flourishing, either. A biological dead-end, it would seem-- no, that wasn't quite right. A biological stalemate. Life had progressed to a certain point and then had simply stopped, hovering at its current state, in a lonely, static biosphere.

To be perfectly honest, Kirk found it slightly depressing. He certainly didn't mind the occasional arid world, but this picture was becoming so redundant, he was starting to lose his patience. Looking out on the land from his slightly elevated position on the bluff, he could easily swear that he had seen the same scruffy bushes, the same prickly cacti, the same scattered stones weeks ago. Several times over. It was becoming a little ridiculous; it felt like they were literally sailing in circles, chasing their own tails. Was this really all there was to be found out here? These fantastic voyages to brave new worlds, these uncharted deep, black seas of space? Only to find small pockets of desert islands that offer practically nothing in the way of life, scenery, or intelligent beings? Just one lonely desert-island after the next; isolated, empty, unapologetically dull. He knew he was exceptionally fortunate, having been assigned to this mission-- he was at the very forefront of exploration, the absolute pioneer in this section of the quadrant. Every day he woke up and thanked his lucky stars to be doing what it was that he was doing. Actually having achieved his boyhood dream-- now _that_ wasn't something everyone could attest to accomplishing!

So whenever he felt frustration sinking in, he reminded himself of that. Even still, it was hard to not grow weary of this at times. The constant studying, the scientific scanning, the analyses and the survey teams. It made up a very large part of what it was they ended up doing out here. Exploration wasn't always what it was cracked up to be, apparently, even in the most distant and uncharted parts of space. It involved a lot of the mundane, and a lot of routine. Kirk found himself thirsting for some _real_ adventure; a mystery he could sink his teeth into, an exotic new landscape to explore and marvel over, a new culture to meet and socialize with, heck, _something_-- practically anything was preferable by now to supervising his survey teams as they dutifully studied the local flora, fauna and geology. Kirk was no fool, he was well aware of the old adage "be careful what you wish for," but truthfully, it was just a lot more _fun_ when things were shook up a little. Sometimes he liked to rock the boat, and if nothing was out there to do it for him he almost found himself intentionally devising ways to seek out trouble.

The man took in a breath and sighed, feeling the dryness of the alien atmosphere. _Perhaps,_ he thought, _I would do well to just be grateful for the time being and enjoy the monotony. No doubt in just a little while, I'll be looking back on when things were simpler, and yearning for these times. _He smiled wryly to himself. It was no doubt something that would turn out to be very true.

Something bright and colorful invaded his senses, and Kirk blinked, startled and slightly puzzled at having the monochrome landscape shift so swiftly. It was an object in the foreground, not the distance, and he shifted his focus to compensate for its sudden appearance. His mouth parted slightly in awe as he drank in the sight; it was a large and fantastic bloom, frilly orange petals protruding out in all directions like a fuzzy dandelion puff, with a complex interior of pale purple petals that folded and crinkled in on themselves like tissue paper. The innermost chamber of the alien flower contained several graceful stalks tipped in jet-black oval heads, and the heads were dusted in an almost neon-green powder.

Kirk dropped his gaze down along the slender green stem of the flower and followed the hand that delicately gripped it back to its owner. Standing there beside and slightly in back of him on the bluff was his first officer, quiet and mild-mannered, still holding out the flower in some sort of humble offering, expression open and nearly begging for some kind of response.

He promptly got one. Kirk grinned wide and warmly, his eyes sparkling at the unexpected gesture, at the delightful nature of his unpredictable friend. His own hand came up to take the delicate stem from Spock, brushing hands as they did so. The Vulcan didn't seem to mind. Kirk was surprised at how light, how dainty the flower felt, for such an elaborate looking design. He couldn't help but to stare down and marvel at it a little more, before finally looking back up again at his patient colleague. The other man seemed in no hurry.

"Where did you find it?" Kirk asked, his voice one of absolute wonder. He was simply amazed that something so delicate, verdant and beautiful had grown here, on this world.

The Vulcan wore an expression of gentle satisfaction and spoke of his find as such:

"Approximately twenty meters from here the bedrock spreads outward and is split by a rising bluff. Much like this one, but higher and somewhat steeper. The crevices beneath are full of pockets of miniature self-contained ecosystems."

"Like a cave."

"Indeed. This is no doubt the source of our more interesting scanner readings. Those blooms were among the most unique flora I took note of."

Kirk glanced down, for some reason suddenly feeling a little self-conscious.

"So naturally you collected a sample for our geoponics bay."

"I assigned that task to Ensign Ronan, sir. He is completing his work now." Spock explained. Kirk glanced back up.

"Oh. I see." He studied Spock. The man was regarding him in that not-quite-a-smile manner again.

"I thought the captain might appreciate a sample of his own," the Vulcan explained again. All sense of self-consciousness evaporated, Kirk grinned warmly again.

"It's beautiful. Thank you, Mr. Spock."

The other man said nothing, merely gave a brief nod. Kirk remembered his survey team.

"Have the crewmembers finish up. We'll want to be ready to return onboard at thirteen hundred hours."

Spock gave a small nod again,

"Very good, captain."

He turned to leave, but then paused before he had gone far.

"I suggest you sample its scent as well, Jim. I suspect you will find it . . . pleasing."

Then he turned and was off, as quickly as he had come. Kirk peered at the alien plant, brought the flower up to his face, and gently inhaled.

"Ooh," he murmured in delightful surprise. It was a rich, complex scent like a sweet chord from a harp. He gazed out across the alien landscape, seeing it in a new light, now with marvel written all over his face.

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The doorbell gave its familiar, mechanical chirp, cheerful somehow today.

"Come in," the captain called, eyes still glued to his computer screen. The doors opened to admit the good doctor, and he came bustling through, humming a tune under his breath.

"'Afternoon, Jim! Got the lab results here for ya."

"Mm, good. Just leave them on my desk, I'll get to them when I'm finished."

McCoy gazed curiously at him, absent-mindedly playing with the microtape.

"All right . . ." he agreed slowly, and leaned against the desk a little, trying to see the computer screen.

"What exactly is so absorbing?"

Kirk finally tore himself from the blue glow of the screen long enough to look at his curious friend.

"Oh, I'm going over Spock's notes on the planet we just surveyed. He's put in a request for some more detailed experiments concerning its ecosystem. . ."

McCoy's face fell a little.

"You're kidding me, right? He wants to hang around this old dustbowl _longer?"_

Kirk glanced from his monitor back to the doctor,

"Apparently he's found some unexpected lifeforms he thinks worthy of further study. He said they're actually quite--"

"Don't tell me, let me guess-- fascinating right?" the doctor drawled.

Kirk smirked, "That's the one."

McCoy huffed a sigh,

"Well, if we're going to be spending more time onshore, I suppose it would give me the time to finish writing those follow-up reports from the Kalseion-4 case . . ."

The captain treated the man with a wry smile,

"That's the Bones I know and love. Always looking on the bright side of things."

"Hrrrumph," the man replied, setting the microtape down on the captain's desk.

"It shouldn't take more than a day or two, from what it looks like," Kirk commented, going back to reading.

"Just let me know if it ends up being any longer," McCoy said, somehow implying that in all likelihood, it would in fact end up that way. He paused on his way out by the short glass coffee table in the middle of the captain's quarters. A small purple vase with a single alien flower had caught his eye. He drew nearer and prodded the dainty looking thing a little.

Some of his original enthusiasm returning, he shot a glance over his shoulder.

"What's this, Jim? Your interior dectoratin's picked up a distinctly dainty touch."

Kirk eyed him from behind the computer screen, looking mildly annoyed.

"That was given to me, actually," he snipped back.

McCoy raised his brows in realization and then grinned wolfishly at him.

"I seeeee. Shoulda guessed. Secret admirer?"

Kirk wrinkled his nose and opened his mouth to speak-- but the look on McCoy's face made him change his mind. Maybe he'd have a little fun first.

So he chose to say succinctly,

"No secrets. I was onshore at the time with the survey team."

The good doctor tittered at the mental image and asked,

"Really? And what did you say?"

Kirk paused, as if lost in thought, the slightest of smiles on his face, and then answered smoothly,

"I said, 'Thank you, Mr. Spock.'"

McCoy took a moment to process that, and when he did, his expression changed very slowly, as if it were dawning on him in gradual degrees.

"Er-- uh-- you . . .um."

Jim Kirk belayed only a small smile as he watched his befuddled friend, and then asked,

"Will that be all, Dr. McCoy?"

The doctor straightened up and nodded stiffly.

"Yeah. . ."

Still looking confused, he turned and left the room.

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End file.
